


Untitled Drabble

by firelakie



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelakie/pseuds/firelakie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaeta observes too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Drabble

She's a follower.

Gaeta knows this not only because she has taken her rack time whenever the captain does but because she joined the Colonial forces to be with someone.  _Dufary? Defree? Dufresne?_ The name escapes him but he does recall the steely looks the young pilot sent everyone; his calling card.  His attempt at intimidation left Gaetamore than a little annoyed. 

Dee, on the other hand, kept up her professional temper, although he could sense the lusty smoldering weighing on her. It was no different than what was happening with Captain Adama. 

__Like a high schooler longing to fit in, she latches onto those seem to have a wealth of things going for them. Gaeta never understood that need to be a part of those in-crowd groups and the like. To Dee's misfortune, Dufresne perished during the first attack on the Colonies. Unfortunate, because it was then she decided to perpetuate that story about wanting something to believe in being the reason for her becoming an officer. She wanted to believe that pilot would return her muted affections, although he never did.

She has a way of creating conditions where things are prosperous even when the dark face of death is staring you down with your name and rank on its list. And she believes her own false notions. Gaeta cannot understand why or how she thrives in her little happy world.

*   *  
Gaeta is little tired of the surprise conversations in the head. He expects it from Dr. Baltar, in one of his frantic need-some-reassurance moods, but when he hears Dee's voice in the next stall, he thinks it's his imagination.  She pokes her translucent green eye in the space between the partition and the wall. His entire body freezes; whatever chance at a healthy midmorning constitutional is forfeit. It's an unpleasant feeling because he was looking forward to releasing some pent-up stress.

"Felix?" she calls.

"Officer Dualla--Dee?" he stammers.

"Yes." She pauses and then he hears her take in a deep breath. "Can you do something for me?"

He can feel dread making its home in the pit of his stomach.  He can't suppress the annoyance in his tone when he asks, "What is it?"

Through the snatch of space, she moves away, her eye no longer peering through. Gaeta feels a shift in the air, as though he said something offensive; Dee is the last one to show response to having her feathers ruffled, even in a civil setting as in the head.

"Nothing," she says quickly.

Squeaking, her stall door opens and Gaeta gathers himself together having nothing left to do.  It comes as a shock when she's standing by the faucets. There's a hint of worry and something else he can't put into words emanating from her.  Her eyes betrayed her, showing the losing battle she was having with her composure. 

"Dee. What's the matter?" 

She moves forward, placing her shaking hands flatly on his chest. He looks down at them, now still. Dee searches his face, like she's studying every feature--hills and valleys of skin, pores and hair.  And she then smiles, effecting assurance.

"Thank you," she tells him, between grins.

Unsure, he nods and mutters, "You're welcome."

She taps his chest with one hand before she starts over to the exit.  He struggles to call after her, stunned by her actions.

"Officer Dualla--Dee. What was . . ."

Dee looks timid as she replies, "I needed someone to look at me . . . the way you look at me."

Gaeta is left unclear as to what she means.  She is gone and he realizes, she followed him into the head.

 


End file.
